


After Sundagatt

by AzWrites



Category: Taiyou no Ko Esteban | Les Mystérieuses Cités d'or | The Mysterious Cities of Gold
Genre: Angst, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, It's not real but it still hurts, Nightmares, Not Really Character Death, Post episode: s03e10 Sundagatt, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28511190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzWrites/pseuds/AzWrites
Summary: Esteban's voice is small. It's not an accusation. It's scared. The boy's eyes are filled with tears, his hands are trembling-“Why didn't you save us?”
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	After Sundagatt

Water.

Water everywhere.

Torrents of it, rushing in the empty rooms, falling from the ceiling, collapsing the whole structure of the city. An entire ocean of water, mercilessly crushing the delicate glass and columns and statues, destroying the walls and the doors, blocking every exit, condemning them, dooming them.

A deafening noise, constant, drowning every other sound. Drowning the Thallios' discrete humming, drowning Pedro's cries, drowning his shouts, drowning any answer he could have gotten. Drowning even his own thoughts.

Pain on his side, radiating in his whole torso, slowing his movements, but he can't stop, he _can't_ -

The water splashes all around him, rising water, soon he won't be able to continue walking but he has to go forward, just a bit farther, he has to _try_ , because the kids- the kids are _missing_ and it's _his fault_.

He doesn't even hear his own cries. The roaring of the water is too strong.

New waterfalls are opening at every second, changing the landscape of the city, blocking paths, destroying everything beneath them. What if Esteban or Zia gets hit by one of these, they're just _children_ , they wouldn't- they couldn't-

A flood opens in front of him, blocking his vision, deafening him, sending him backwards. Getting back up is difficult, the water reaches above his hips now, but when he does-

He's lost.

He doesn't see the Thallios' golden hues anymore, he hasn't heard anyone in a long time, the walls of the city are mangled beyond recognition. Everywhere around him is the same view, columns of water, collapsed golden pillars, greyish liquid all around. The smashes of orichalcum structures on the surface are almost lost among the rumble of the water.

A loud crash behind him. He feels more than he sees the wall slowly fall over, pushing the water forward in enormous waves, taking everything with it. He's tossed around, rolling underwater, unable to grab anything solid, to find footing, to stop-

His head breaches the surface, air filling his lungs once again. His feet find something solid and he can breathe again. His ribs hurt. That doesn't matter, he has to go back, to continue looking, he has to find Esteban and Zia, he _has to_ find them because if he doesn't then they might- He doesn't want to think about it. They _can't_.

Waves keep crashing around him, bringing debris, golden orichalcum, dark stones, blue mosaic-

There! It's bright orange, it's in the shape of Zia's dress, it's- It's Zia! She doesn't seem to move but maybe she's just tired, maybe-

Another wave brings her closer, and he swims the rest of the distance. She's- She's not swimming. She's on her back, unmoving apart from her hair, flowing in the water like a crown. Her skin is pale, her eyes are closed, her lips are parted but there's no sound coming out of her mouth, only more water.

He knows. He knows because he's a sailor, he's worked on ships, he's seen people who- who... He knows, but he knows it's not true, it _can't_ be true.

Zia opens her eyes. Watery eyes. Glassy eyes. Dead eyes.

“Why didn't you find me?”

He steps backwards, can't, the water is like jelly, his legs don't work anymore, his mind is blank, this can't be true.

“Why didn't you find us?”

Esteban. It's Esteban's voice. The boy is here. He wasn't before but that doesn't matter, because Esteban is here, Esteban is alive, Esteban is-

Esteban is a corpse.

The boy is upright. Water is falling from his body, salt is whitening his clothes, blood is seeping from his hairline. He's not moving. Esteban is always moving, always active, this is _wrong_ , this is-

“Why didn't you find us?”

The voices of both children blend, swirl around him.

“Why didn't you save us?”

When Esteban opens his mouth there's water falling from it, grey water, dark water, liquid that should not be in a child's mouth.

“Why didn't you save us?”

Zia's eyes drill into his own, her voice pierces his ears, her hand is on his own and it's wet and cold and rigid and this is _wrong_ -

“Why didn't you save us?”

Esteban's voice is small. It's not an accusation. It's scared. The boy's eyes are filled with tears, his hands are trembling-

“Why didn't you save us?”

Zia is looking at him with hope and fear, her voice far away, like it comes from behind a waterfall. Her hand is slipping from his own, her body is becoming blurry, her bright dress merging with the grey water beneath her-

Esteban's face is in front of him. It's pale, and dull, and there's blood matting some strands of hair, and there's a spot on his cheek where a bone is showing-

“Why didn't you save us?!”

The boy's hands are soaked, and freezing, and on his shoulders, piercing through his shirt and freezing his arms, in a grotesque imitation of a hug-

Esteban's face is contorted in a cry, water seeping freely from his mouth, his nose, his eyes, voice hurt, full of terror and anguish and betrayal-

“Mendoza! Why didn't you save us?!”

* * *

Mendoza opened his eyes.

A silent yell on his lips, his heart in his throat.

Above him, the stars were sparkling gently, taunting him with their tranquility and blissful ignorance.

He slowly sit back up, hand rubbing away the last fragments of sleep on his face, cover falling on the ground. He didn't feel like being wrapped in something anyway.

The ground beneath him was hard. Just some dust on flat rocks, a solid and safe location to get some rest. A light wind was dancing around, a cool breeze that allowed his heart to slow down.

Around him, only mountains, rocks, the nearby temple, colorful flags appearing dark in the night. Some snow, far away, bright white under the moonlight. Nothing golden. No blue mass ready to submerge him. Just rocks and wind and the stars. No glass dome.

His senses were coming back to him as he calmed down. Pedro and Sancho's snoring was familiar, grounding, welcome for once. The light crackling of the fire, almost out, explained that he didn't feel the cold. The rustling of the pieces of fabric around the temple was calming. It was telling of an open space, of wind, of Chinese mountains. The scenery was radically different from the underwater city of gold, and Mendoza was glad for it.

The navigator got up to put some more wood on the fire, try to keep it burning until the end of the night. He knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, but at least the others wouldn't get cold.

Pedro and Sancho were both sleeping soundly. Kokapetl was dozing near Tao, feathers rustling with the boy's regular breathing. Esteban's bed head was sticking out of his blanket. He was still. Esteban had always been a heavy sleeper, but this time the navigator couldn't ignore his worry. He knelt down near the boy, listening intently, hands ready to rouse him should Esteban- No. There it was. Breathing, light, even, regular. Mendoza released a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding.

Only Zia was left to check up on, and she was-

gone

His nightmare came back with full force, breath stopping in his throat, fear nesting in his heart. This couldn't be happening. Zia went to sleep with everyone else, she couldn't just _disappear_ -

A rustle on the side. The sound of fabric on rocks. A movement, some small figure stirring in the dark.

“Mendoza?”

There she was. Zia's sleepy voice was coming from the rocks near the temple, just outside of the area lit by the dying fire. Mendoza tried to calm his fast-beating heart, to no avail.

“Zia?! Are you alright?” He couldn't even stop the residual panic from leaking into his voice.

The girl got up as he got closer, and he could see that her missing blanket was with her, protecting her body from the cold of the rocks.

“Yes, I am,” she answered, her clear voice a relief in Mendoza's ears. “I just... couldn't sleep.”

If she hadn't heard his worry, she definitely saw it on his face.

“What about you? You seem... troubled.”

Damn this girl's perspicacity.

“Oh, well, I just...” He couldn't really tell her, could he? “Same, I guess. Couldn't sleep.”

Zia just hummed, sitting back on her blanket. The fabric was spread over a boulder, stopping the cold from getting to her from the rocks, but nothing was left to cover her body. This far from the fire, she must have been freezing in the wind.

Mendoza quickly picked his cape up from where he had left it near his own blanket. Sitting down next to Zia, he draped it over her shoulders. The girl looked at him, and he just smiled back. He couldn't trust his voice not to betray him again.

She tightened the clothing around her. The cape had dried during the day, but it still smelled of ash and fire. Souvenirs from the volcano that almost killed them all. Zia didn't seem to mind.

The two of them fell in companionable silence. Mendoza was beginning to understand why the girl had chosen this spot. From here they had a view on the entire valley, while still being far enough from the edge. The moon was illuminating the mountains, showing every patch of snow, brightening the rocks. The wind was cold, but it also carried the occasional leaf, and sounds from all over. A light rustling of fabric, the jingling of rocks and metal, a nocturnal bird's flapping wings. This was quiet, and perfect for a restless mind.

Zia placed her head on his shoulder. Whatever had kept the girl from sleeping seemed to be kept at bay for now. Mendoza draped an arm across her shoulders, securing her, warming her. He took in the warmth of her body, her hair tickling his neck, her shoulder bone digging into his arm. The position wasn't very comfortable, but he didn't mind. He couldn't mind. Zia was here. Zia was alive. Esteban was, too, sleeping soundly behind them. Tao, Pedro, Sancho, even Kokapetl, everyone had gotten out of the city unscathed. This felt almost like a miracle.

Tomorrow, they would all get up and continue their travels. They'd follow Ambrosius, Zares, wherever he would go. They'd look for other cities of gold, which would no doubt almost kill them again. But for now, Mendoza was content just being here. Listening to the wind, looking at the glistening stars, watching over his family.

**Author's Note:**

> I have lots of feelings about what happened in the third city


End file.
